One minute: a splash of a moment or an infinite of time.
When jetlag hits, minutes loose their physical delimitation, they expand, they turn into eternities.
Lying in bed at 3.30am I cannot but count the pulsing seconds on the clock of my bedroom walls.
It takes 60 seconds to make up a minute and less than 60 seconds to connect to someone at first instance, to reject someone on a first impression, to assess whether a situation is beneficial or dangerous for yourself. It takes less than 60 seconds to form an intuitive decision. It also takes less than 60 seconds to tell whether you like someone or something or not.
Depending on where you stand, one minute can be a long time to endure. Remember the last time when you were in a hurry and you had to wait for the bus to come, or for your kid to get dresssed before you rushed with him to school on the way to an important meeting, or counting the seconds in a hospital waiting room, or when you received a bad news…
The very same minute vanishes in a blink of an eye when you are filled with enthusiasm and positive anticipation. Remember being in love? Having succeeded? Clapping your hands at the confirmation of a great success? Hugging the beloved ones?
Crystals shining in the sun or peebles in the shoes, minutes are like grains of sand.
They seem infinite, abundant and impossible to count. For you never know when you have left only one more minute to spend.
One minute or glory or one minute of ordeal, the same minute can make or break the life o an individual. What you’ve built during days of dedication can crash in in less than 60 seconds of ‘bad timing’. It takes one minute of shining to make a memorable long lasting impression, to make a difference in the lives of those around you.
One minute: the becoming of being.